


sweet sweet soul

by pistolgrip



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Pre-Relationship, White Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23136316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/pseuds/pistolgrip
Summary: Siete gets a surprise in his room for White Day. (Hislockedroom.)[reupload - originally posted on july 6, 2018!]
Relationships: Siete | Seofon/Six | Seox (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	sweet sweet soul

Siete gets back to his room after breakfast on White Day to find a box sitting on his unmade bed, the only calm among the chaos of his rumpled sheets. The box looks undecorated at first glance, but as Siete holds it up to the light, he sees carvings around the border. Opening it reveals only exactly seven cookies in the shape of lopsided stars, and when he picks one up to look at its underside, he finds it burnt to a crisp. Eyebrows raised, he closes the lid on them.

He's flattered, but his room was _locked_ when he left for breakfast. He doesn't doubt that with this many people on the Grandcypher, there must be someone that knows how to break into locked rooms. The captain wouldn't let just anyone onto their ship, so the more obvious possibility than poisoned cookies is just someone that means well, but has no way how to go about with White Day. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it; there’s no name on this box anywhere, and he doesn’t wanna risk offending anyone, but there’s still just enough odd about the situation that he wants to make sure that he’s not about to die eating cookies in his room.

Despite his jests, Siete doesn't expect anything for White Day. Still, he's careful not to make noise as he sneaks out of his room with the box in his hand, wandering down to the lower decks, where the crew members' personal quarters are sparser, scattered between utility rooms. Down here, in a corner, he finds Six’s room and knocks on the door.

After a few seconds, the door opens. Behind it stands Six, mask on and dressed for the day. Siete salutes with two fingers. "Yo."

"Make it quick." Straight to business, as always—but there's a note of tension in his voice. Must be the White Day thing. Six was never good with holidays.

"You’re familiar with poisons, right? Something with Karm training and all that."

Six sighs out through his nose, shifting his weight between his feet. "What of it?"

Siete presents the small box, dropping his voice and letting the smile fade from his voice. The state of the cookies are a curiosity at best, but if he wants Six to take this request seriously, he'll have to show it, too. "I found these in my room today. My _locked_ room. It's suspicious enough to check if anyone's trying to poison me, but I don’t wanna risk offending anyone in case I ask them and it turns out they sent them."

As he says that, he realizes there's the possibility that _Six_ might have sent them, but he removes the notion from his mind. Impossible.

Six’s head tilts down by a fraction toward the box, and he stares at it for a long time. Six is normally curt with his disinterest or his acquiescence, but the amount of silence that draws between them grows tense.

"So, you can test for poison just by staring at them?"

Without looking back up at him, Six steps back and slams the door. Siete hears the door lock with more force than necessary.

Siete blinks. He stares at the closed door. _Well_ then _._ "Six?"

His room is small, but Siete can tell that Six hasn't moved from his spot behind the door. "I have nothing to say to you."

"Did _you_ send these?" He can’t stop the mischievous grin that spreads across his face.

"Hard of hearing _and_ faint of mind?"

"You're ignoring the subject," Siete says in a sing-song tone, growing lightheaded with giddiness.

This is better than he could have imagined, because it unfolds a series of realizations in Siete's mind. On the surface level, it's easy to tease Six, and these cookies only fuel that. Below that, these cookies mean that Siete’s presence isn’t unwanted. In the most unimaginable parts of his mind, it means that Siete's presence is something Six wishes for.

He tries to rein himself in; he's no stranger to inconvenient feelings, and luckily enough, he's no stranger to pushing them down, either. Sure, Six is _cute,_ and he’s so earnest about the little things that Siete's endeared. But Siete knows that even though Six is slowly starting to open up to people, even _implying_ that Siete has any measure of affection for him would cause a rift between them. He'd rather Six not take him seriously if that were the case.

Or, well, so he thought. Siete huffs out a laugh from his nose. His cheeks hurt from smiling. "Can I come in?"

Without missing a beat, Six shoots back, "That is not only a violation of my privacy, but of my fundamental rights."

He knocks on the door again. "I’m not here to make fun of you, you know."

"You’ve done an excellent job of proving yourself on those grounds, rest assured."

"I think it’s sweet."

"Nothing made by my hands could ever be _sweet_."

"One, I meant the gesture. Two, so you're not even denying it?"

After a long-suffering sigh, the door unlocks in front of him. Siete waits a few moments for Six to open it, but nothing happens.

"Is that an invitation?" When there’s no answer but soft, shuffling footsteps, he puts his hand on the doorknob and turns it. "I’m coming in."

He opens the door without letting it creak, shutting it behind him with the same care. At first glance, there’s no one in the room, but he sees a corner of white, gold, red underneath the bed, and when he crouches to look under, he sees the rest of Six’s figure, curled up and facing away from him.

Walking up to the bed, he lets out a small groan as he lays down on the floor on his stomach, resting his head on his arms and kicking his feet in the air. Six doesn’t react.

"Hey."

"Do you have to be like this," Six grumbles, not as a question.

"You’re not gonna believe me if I say I’m not making fun of you, are you?"

"Your past actions tell me otherwise."

"You're right, I _do_ like teasing you. But I'm not _making fun_ of you."

"You say that as if there's a difference."

"There is! The former means it's because I think you're cute." Did that sound like enough of a joke? He sure hopes it did. "Well," he rushes to say, pushing away the previous statement, "I appreciate your show of feelings all the same. I made cookies for you too, but I was waiting until later tonight to give you yours."

Six breathes out. It might be a sigh. "What."

"As a _thanks for all the hard work_ sort of thing, if that would've been easier to swallow for you"—easy, just like the way Siete opens his mouth and inserts his foot—"but that’s enough outta me. Why’d you send these?"

Six curls in on himself, a frustrated groan escaping from between his lips. "You know why."

"Do I? People send others gifts on White Day for all sorts of reasons."

"Do they?" Six mumbles in contemplation, more to himself than to Siete. There’s another long stretch of silence, and Siete lets his eyes close as he lies down, feet still kicking in the air. When Six starts speaking again, his voice is barely above a whisper. "I was led to believe I should do this as a show of appreciation."

"Just like the captain says, then. Except with an extra _breaking into my room_ aspect that adds a little bit of exciting danger."

"You weren't supposed to know those were from me. I didn't expect you to come to _me._ "

"Nothing wrong with wanting to spend a little time with you!"

"You requested my talents when you first approached me here." He gives the word _talent_ acid in each syllable.

"I did, but that's because I trust you to not give me false information that might kill me. But still, it’s nice to see me get recognition for being a good leader from one of the fellow Eternals."

"You are, quite frankly, one of the most incompetent men I’ve ever had the misfortune of taking orders from."

The way Six sighs at the end of his words makes Siete keep his mouth shut for once, waiting for something to follow.

Ah, Six never fails him. "And yet," he says, the words little more than the shape of his sigh.

"And yet?"

"I can tell you with certainty that those cookies are most certainly poison. Anything I create becomes inedible by virtue of these hands creating them."

"Hey, not true." Siete rolls onto his back and then sits up, taking the box of cookies. Six shuffles, and when Siete turns back around, his ears are peeking out from underneath.

He sits back down, takes a cookie, and bites into it. Six's ears turn toward him.

They've got the texture of sand and taste like it, too, and he's glad that Six isn't looking at him, because he takes a second too long to keep chewing so he can swallow it. Still, they're not the worst thing he's ever tasted, and since they're all made by Six from scratch, it gives him the strength to finish the entire cookie.

As he reaches for a second one, Six's ears flatten against the side of his head. Siete resists the urge to pat his head. "My verdict is that anything made by you specially for me is sweet enough to give me cavities."

"Do you—do you have no shame?"

"Not really, no." But he’s rather proud of himself for that line, actually. To drive the point home further, he takes another cookie from the box and pops it in his mouth. "Can you come out from under there?"

"No."

"It’s either that or I come under there with you. And it doesn’t look like there’s a lot of space."

After a moment, a hand comes out from under the bed and Six scrapes along the floor, agonizingly slow, like a wrathful puppy. Siete backs up to give him enough space, letting the cookie crumble in his mouth.

Six leans against the side of his bed, knees brought up to his chest and head hanging between his shoulders. Shuffling, Siete drags himself to sit cross-legged by Six’s left side.

Six huffs. "Are you happy?"

Siete puts a hand on Six’s shoulder and leans in, kissing him on the cheek. Of course, it only ends up on his mask, but Siete’s close enough that he can hear the sharp inhale, and it’s enough to make him chuckle.

"Are you—" Six’s voice comes out strangled, high pitched, anxious. "I don’t need your pity."

"And you won’t ever get it," Siete says, laying his head on Six’s shoulder. "It’d be a disservice to you. And to these cookies." His fingers don't rebel as he reaches over for another one, but Six’s hand shoots out to stop him.

"You’ve proved your point," he grumbles. "Stop torturing yourself with these."

"Why? They’re made with love, that makes them delicious."

The grip around Siete’s arm loosens, and with a long sigh, Six lowers his head down onto his knees again. "Why did I ever believe this would be a good idea?"

"Is this not what you wanted?"

"I—" Six tilts his head away from Siete, but doesn't move away to put more space between them. "I’m not sure what I wanted. I didn’t allow myself to think this far ahead. I hoped that you would accept it without question. It was too much to ask of you, of all people."

"Well, then, forget thinking. What do you wanna _do?"_

"I…" Six trails off with a slow exhale.

"'Cause you know what _I_ wanna do?"

"Embarrass me further?"

Leaning his head around, Siete presses his lips against where Six’s mouth would be if not for the mask. He makes sure to make the biggest, most obnoxious smacking noise he can when his lips come into contact with the cold metal, nearly losing his balance when he leans too much into the action. He rests his head on Six’s knees when he’s done, looking up at him defiantly. "That."

Siete’s sure that if he were to touch Six’s mask right now, it would be hot to the touch; in the sliver of skin exposed under his mask and above his collar, his neck is flushed red, and if he listens close enough, he can hear Six’s breaths coming shorter, in and out. He waits for an answer, more than content to stay where he is and keep blinking up at him coyly.

With his right hand, Six’s hand skirts around the circumference of his mask, undoing latches and wiggling pieces free.

There’s still a piece covering his right eye, but the rest of his face is exposed, his visible eye looking anywhere but Siete. His face is so red it would stop traffic, like it stops Siete’s entire train of thought. Six mumbles something so quietly Siete can’t hear over the thundering of his heart in his own ears, even from how close he is. He leans in by a millimetre and asks, "Come again?"

"At least do it properly," Six says, and then he shuts his eyes tightly, letting out an embarrassed groan. He’s clenching his teeth, jaw rigid, and yet his lips are soft when Siete closes the distance between them.

It’s a bit awkward from how tense Six is, so Siete backs off after a second or two, resting his head back on Six’s knees when he finishes.

Six opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking increasingly pained, and then settles with mumbling, "I’m not sure what I expected."

"I’m not sure what you expected either." Siete laughs, but it’s fond all the same. "If you want me to kiss you properly, you’re gonna have to reciprocate, or it's like I'm practicing kissing my pillow or something."

"I’ll work my way up to it," Six murmurs, still refusing to look anywhere in Siete’s direction. Sensing that he’s been a little overloaded for today, Siete sits back up, letting their shoulders bump into each other.

"Still, I didn’t think you’d do this. Can’t believe you beat me to the punch. I just thought I’d get to be cool and sweep you off your feet. But I guess I already have, haven’t I?"

His laughter is cut short by a pair of lips press against his cheek, and his mind short-circuits. The touch lingers, and then Six backs off slightly, close enough that Siete can hear him swallow, can still feel his warm breath fan across his cheek. "Get out of my room."

"Romantic things to whisper into your object of affection’s ear," Siete says, turning to him. "But hey, next time, let's bake together! I know my way around a kitchen."

"I know you do, which only furthers my humiliation."

"Ah, but the love and care you put into each of these stars! I'll hang them up in the sky and treasure them for millennia! I can't eat these!"

" _Now_ you understand that you can't eat these."

"I'll eat anything you make if you make it for me, Six." To drive the point home, he picks up a star-shaped cookie and puts it in his mouth. This time, Six is watching him, his ears flat against the side of his head again as Siete can't stop himself from making a face.

"For your safety, if you insist on doing so, perhaps I'll take you up on your offer of assistance in the kitchen."

The corner of his lips turn down in disappointment, and Siete tries his best to kiss it away.

**Author's Note:**

> don't worry. one year the surprise on his bed in his locked room when he wakes up will be Six Himself  
> edited pretty heavily from the last time i posted this so... whoops


End file.
